Bloody and Undaunted
by aehawthorne
Summary: Captain Daniel Sousa's capture by pirates and the death of his crew at their hands yields an unexpected situation that alters the course of his life.
1. Capture

"Anything to report, Pinkerton?" Daniel called up to the man in question, who was on watch.

"There's a ship approaching on the port side, sir," Pinkerton shouted in reply, leaning out over the edge of the crow's nest to be heard better. He lifted his spyglass back up to his eye for a better look and exclaimed "Bloody hell! It's the _Blood Shrike_!" Beside Daniel, the helmsman, Jonathan Juniper, made a whimpering sound. He was sixteen and green as spring grass, but his aptitude for seafaring was greater than anyone's except perhaps Daniel's.

"Is there a problem, Jonathan?" Daniel asked, turning to him.

"For-forgive me for being forward sir," he stammered in a quavering voice, "but haven't you heard the stories?"

"I don't believe I have," Daniel replied. "Please, enlighten me. What have you heard about the ship that approaches us? Who captains it?"

"None other than Bloody Maggie Carter, the most feared pirate ever to sail the seven seas," Jonathan said. His voice dropping to a whisper, he added, "Rumor has it the sails of her ship are dyed red with the blood of English sailors." Daniel laughed.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he said. "Surely you don't believe that."

"I don't know that I believe it exactly, sir," Jonathan replied carefully, "but nevertheless, I do not wish to take chances. I strongly recommend that we change our course." Daniel fixed him with a stern glare.

"You have heard of how I came to be captain of this vessel, correct?" he asked.'

"Yes sir," Jonathan replied. "Of course sir, but-"

"Then surely you know that I have no fear of pirates, and that I intend to give them no quarter should we encounter them on this voyage?"

"Yes," Jonathan replied, "but… Bloody Maggie takes no prisoners. If she catches us...we'll all be killed."

"Then at least we will die on our feet like men, not begging like dogs for her mercy or trying to flee like so many frightened deer," Daniel said fiercely. "Maintain the course, helmsman."

"But-"

"Maintain. The. Course."

"Yes sir." Stepping away from the helm, Daniel cried "Jarvis!"

"Yes Captain?" Jarvis asked, stepping forward from his position at the prow of the ship. "What are your orders?"

"Tell the crew to man their battle stations," Daniel told him. "Make sure there are people on the cannons. If it comes to a fight, I want to be prepared."

"Yes sir," Jarvis said with a respectful dip of his head. "Consider it done."

"Pinkerton!" Daniel called when Jarvis had gone. Pinkerton's square jawed face appeared over the edge of the crow's nest.

"Yes Captain?" he asked.

"How far is that ship from us?" Daniel said, answering Pinkerton's question with one of his own.

"I'd say about two knots, sir," Pinkerton replied, peering through his spyglass to make sure.

"And how long before it reaches us?" Daniel asked.

"Well, it's moving frightfully fast," Pinkerton answered, still peering through his spyglass. "I would guess not more than a few minutes."

"Very well," Daniel said, nodding. "Brace for impact. This could get ugly." Pinkerton nodded once, a quick, birdlike motion, then drew back away from the edge of the crow's nest. A few minutes later, Jarvis emerged from below decks. At the exact same instant, Pinkerton screamed "Incoming!" before his cry was cut short by the sound of chain shot tearing through mast and rigging, leaving destruction in its wake. With a splintering crack, the crow's nest separated from the main mast and plummeted toward the deck, taking Pinkerton with it. It landed with a sound of thunder and shattered wood, splinters flying everywhere. Pinkerton's limp, still form rolled out of the crow's nest into the open, and Daniel knew with terrible certainty that he was dead.

The sharp retort of a gunshot echoed through the air and Jonathan slumped forward against the ship's wheel, a musket ball hole in his head. Daniel glanced over at the attacking ship. There was a man in its crow's nest, he saw, but as high up as he was and with the afternoon sun behind him it was impossible to make of him out except a silhouette and the occasional flash of sunlight off of dark brown hair.

As if the gunshot had been some sort of signal, Daniel's ship was suddenly being overrun with pirates, swinging across on ropes, climbing up the sides with grappling lines, running across on the plank they'd laid between the two ships. Two of them went for Pinkerton, clearly intending to loot his body, and Daniel shot them both, seething with rage at their callous disrespect for the dead, He turned back toward the attacking ship in time to see a man leap from it to the _Dauntless_ , completely ignoring the plank laid between the two ships. He landed on the _Dauntless_ 's deck with a _thump_ , dropping into a crouch like a pouncing cat. He straightened, spotted Jarvis, who was still standing near the entrance to below decks, watching the chaos around him in shock, and charged toward him. Jarvis saw him coming and scrambled out of his way, but too late. Quick as a striking snake, he caught Jarvis' shoulder, drew his cutlass, and slashed it across Jarvis' throat with a savage yell. Jarvis fell in a spray of blood, splattering the man's face with crimson droplets, but he seemed not to notice or care. Daniel turned away, sickened by this display of brutality, and that was when he saw it-an opportunity to save his ship. A woman was standing on the deck of the attacking ship. From the way the few members of its crew that remained on board were deferring to her, Daniel knew that she had to be the captain, the pirate Jonathan had told him about. If he killed her, the pirates would be left without a leader and therefore with no direction, and then he might be able to rally whichever members of his crew remained alive and drive them off his ship. That the captain might have had some sort of lieutenant who could take over command of the ship if she was killed did not occur to Daniel in his desperate, half panicked state. He eyed the woman on the deck of the attacking ship while he reloaded his pistol, contemplating the shot he would have to make. It was a difficult one, even for someone with his training, but he refused to even consider the possibility that he might miss. Failure was not an option at this point. Success might save his ship, but failure would surely doom it and everyone on it.

His weapon loaded, Daniel took a deep breath and took aim at the captain of the attacking ship. He was about to pull the trigger when someone grabbed him from behind and shoved a cutlass against his throat.

"Drop it," an angry voice hissed in his ear. When he hesitated, his aggressor pressed something against the side of his head, a flintlock pistol by the feel of it.

"Drop it," the voice repeated. This time, Daniel obliged, his weapon falling to the deck with a _thud_.

"Now get on your knees," his aggressor growled, pushing him down so that he had no choice but to obey. He dropped to the deck beside his discarded weapon and awaited his fate in silence, acutely aware of the dead that surrounded him.


	2. Face to Face

Bloody Maggie Carter's arrival on Daniel's ship was announced by the dull _thump_ of boot heels on wood. The cutlass against his throat and the gun against his head made it impossible for Daniel to turn and track her progress, so it wasn't until she was standing right in front of him that he got his first real look at her. She wore a wide brimmed felt hat that shadowed her eyes, from under which dark brown hair fell in a cascade of loose curls. The red plume stuck in the hat's band bobbed gaily in time with even the slightest movement of her head. The bottom half of her long sleeved white shirt appeared to have been cut or torn off at some point in the past, and its tattered remnants were tied in a knot just below her ribs, leaving her midriff exposed. The shirt also had off the shoulder sleeves, which bared far more of her chest than could ever be considered proper. Her boots-calf length, laced up the front, and made of black leather with a low, square heel-looked more like a soldier's boots than anything a woman might wear. Her pants, which were made of tawny colored calfskin, appeared to be the of the sort one would wear for riding, and they fairly clung to her, emphasizing her hips and the curves of her long, lean legs. Between them and her shirt, there was far less of the woman standing before him left to the imagination than Daniel would have liked.

"Bloody Maggie Carter," he all but spat, glaring fiercely at her. She dropped into a mocking curtsy.

"At your service," she said. "And you are?"

"Daniel Sousa," Daniel growled. "Captain Daniel Sousa."

"Well met, Captain Sousa," Maggie said, her tone just as mocking as her earlier curtsy.

"You know, the stories about you never mentioned you're a harlot," Daniel said, more bravely than he felt. Maggie laughed.

"Oh, I'm a harlot,am I?" she asked.

"I've seen streetwalkers dressed more modestly than you," Daniel retorted. This was, of course, hyperbolic, but no one present bothered to call attention to that fact.

"Careful Captain," Maggie warned. "The only reason you're alive right now is because Rogers thought I was in danger from you, the poor misguided fool. Keep up with that attitude and you might end up dead after all." Behind Daniel, his captor, whose name was apparently Rogers, made a noise of protest, likely in response to Maggie calling him out, since why would he care about whether Daniel lived or died?

"Oh please Rogers," Maggie said scornfully in response to the sound. "You're as transparent as a spyglass lense. You obviously still refuse to relinquish your belief that I need protecting. Why else would you keep this man alive?"

"Take the cargo, not the crew," Rogers muttered. He spoke with a rhythmic Irish lilt, gentle, pleasing to the ear, and completely at odds with his blatant aggression and his apparent propensity for violence.

"Exactly," Maggie said. "I've said that a thousand times, but apparently I need to say it a thousand and one before it gets through that misguided sense of chivalry of yours." She _tsk_ ed like a governess scolding her charge and added, "Now take that cutlass away from his throat. We're not savages." Daniel huffed disbelievingly at that, but Maggie ignored him. There was a long pause, as if Rogers was considering his options, and then the cutlass was pulled away from Daniel's throat. The sudden release of the pressure against his windpipe made him gasp.

"Take the gun away from his head as well, you numpty," Maggie said in a bored tone.

"Are you sure you don't want me to kill him, Captain?" Rogers asked. Daniel heard the _click_ of the gun's hammer being pulled back and swallowed nervously. "'Take no prisoners', and all that?"

"Quite sure," Maggie replied. "Normally I _would_ have you kill him, but"- she gestured to the dead pirates lying near Pinkerton's body,where they'd fallen- "we appear to be short a few crew members. Since you saw fit not to kill this man, we may as well put him to good use. We'll still be a man short, but you can do the work of two, and besides, extra work will serve you right for-" She was interrupted by two pirates emerging from below decks, dragging a beaten and bloody James Montgomery Falsworth between them.

"We found this one sneaking around in the hold," one of them said, shoving Falsworth down at Maggie's feet.

"Excellent," she said, though not loudly enough for Falsworth's captors to hear. "It seems we won't be a man short after all."

"What should we do with him, Captain?" the other pirate, the one who hadn't spoken before, asked.

"Bind his hands and take him to the Blood Shrike," Maggie commanded. "I'll find some use for him once we're finished here."

"Yes Captain," the two pirates said in unison, though they looked confused at her apparently sudden decision to go against her "take no prisoners" policy. They hauled Falsworth unwillingly to his feet, tied his wrists together with a piece of broken rigging, and forced him ahead of them, shoving and kicking and otherwise bullying him across the gangplank onto their ship.

"Rogers," Maggie said when they had gone. "Take Captain Sousa to the Blood Shrike as well, and keep him under guard. Make sure he doesn't get a chance to incite our other prisoner to rebellion."

"Yes, Captain," Rogers said. He seized Daniel roughly by the upper arm and yanked him to his feet, then bound his hands as the other pirates had bound Falsworth's. That done, he dragged him across the gangplank and onto the _Blood Shrike_ , heedless of the fact that the breakneck pace he'd set was making his prisoner stumble as he struggled to keep up.

Once they were on the _Blood Shrike_ Rogers kept Daniel well away from Falsworth and the pirates that held him prisoner, and he refused to relinquish his grip on his arm, so there was nothing for Daniel to do but watch as the rest of the _Blood Shrike_ 's crew offloaded the cargo from his ship and onto their own.

As this was going on, a tall, lean man with dark brown hair and blue-grey eyes climbed down from the _Blood Shrike_ 's crow's nest. He had a musket slung across his back- he must have been the man who'd killed Jonathan. Daniel felt his blood boil with rage at the sight of him. Jonathan had only been sixteen. He'd had his whole life ahead of him, only for it to be snuffed out in an instant by this man.

The object of Daniel's rage raised a hand to Rogers in greeting and raised a quizzical eyebrow at Daniel, but said nothing. Apparently deciding that he was needed elsewhere, he went to help bring the pirates' stolen cargo into the hold. As soon as he was out of Daniel's view he felt his shoulders relax, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Careful," Rogers said sternly, as if he'd sensed Daniel's hatred toward the man who'd just left. "That man is a very dear friend of mine. If you make so much as a single hostile move toward him, I _will_ kill you." Daniel shrugged, oddly unmoved by the threat. He had received so many death threats since the attack on his ship that they were beginning to cease to have any affect on him.

With the last of the stolen cargo cam Maggie Carter, back on her own ship at last. However, Rogers and Daniel saw very little of her over the next several minutes, as she spent most of that time in the hold, directing her crew in the placement of the last of the cargo. When she finally emerged from the hold, she fixed Rogers and Daniel with a piercing stare and shouted "Rogers! Bring the captain here!" Rogers obliged, dragging Daniel by his arm. He shoved him roughly toward Maggie, making him stumble.

"One thing I forgot to tell you, Captain," Maggie said, walking around behind him. She untied the rope around his wrists and yanked his topcoat off of him by the sleeves, leaving him in his white waistcoat and shirt. Retying the rope, she leaned close to him and hissed, "There's only room for one captain on this ship."

If Daniel was grateful for anything in that moment, it was that when Maggie came back into his view his coat covered enough of her that he no longer felt like he was engaging in lechery every time he looked at her. Maggie studied him for a moment, then said, "Keep your hat. It suits you," and it was with that that Captain Daniel Sousa became a captain in name only.


	3. Initiation

"Alright, you scurvy dogs, listen up!" Maggie said as she turned away from Daniel, raising her voice to address her entire crew at once. "I'm going down to the hold to take inventory. Barnes, you keep an eye on Captain Sousa. Rogers, you're responsible for the other one." She gestured to Falsworth. "If either one of them causes trouble, I'll have _you_ punished for it. As for the rest of you, you know what your duties are. Now get to work!" With that, her crew dispersed, with more than a few mutters and sidelong glances at Daniel and Falsworth. In a few minutes Rogers had disappeared with Falsworth, leaving Daniel alone on the deck with the man who'd killed Jonathan, whose name, he now knew, was Barnes, and the helmsman, whose name he did not know. Barnes approached Daniel hesitantly, caution in his every movement and gesture.

"Aren't you supposed to give me something to do?" Daniel asked cuttingly after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm...not sure what you _can_ do," Barnes replied with a not-so-surreptitious glance downward at Daniel's false leg. Like Rogers, he spoke with an Irish accent, though his was stronger and considerably rougher, more of a brogue than a lilt. Daniel bristled.

"I'll have you know, I am more than capable of performing the same tasks as the rest of the rest of your damned crew," he snapped. Barnes recoiled slightly, seeming surprised by his outburst

"Very well," he said carefully. "Can you climb rigging?"

"Of course," Daniel replied, doing his best not to snap at Barnes this time, though there was still irritation in his tone.

"Good," Barnes said, nodding. "Very good. In that case, I think I'll put you on watch for now. That way you won't be in able to cause trouble, and it will be easier for me to keep an eye on you while I carry out the rest of my duties."

"As you wish," Daniel responded sardonically. "It's not as if I'm in a position to refuse."

"Excellent," Barnes replied. "I have some things to attend to down below, but I'll be back in a few minutes. Sawyer will be in charge of you in the meantime." When Daniel nodded his understanding, Barnes turned toward the helm and shouted "Sawyer!"

"Yes?" Sawyer asked without turning away from the ocean in front of them.

"If Captain Sousa causes you any trouble," Barnes said, "You have my full permission to shoot him." Daniel couldn't see, but Sawyer must have indicated his understanding because Barnes turned and made a dismissive gesture upwards towards the crow's nest, accompanied by the equally dismissive sentence, "All right, Captain Sousa, up you go. I'll be back shortly." Daniel proceeded to scramble up the rigging as quickly as his false leg would allow, and as a result caught only glimpses of Barnes disappearing down below. Reaching the crow's nest, he did a quick visual sweep of the ocean surrounding the ship and saw that it was empty for miles in every direction, all the way to the horizon. A sigh escaped him and he dropped heavily into a sitting position, his back against the mast behind him. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sunlight on his face. Already he could feel himself relaxing, the tension going out of his shoulders. Removed as he was from everyone on the ship, simply by virtue of the height of the crow's nest above the deck, he had risen above all of his current problems, as well as a certain female pirate captain who was their cause, at least for the duration of his watch.

Unbidden, images of his crew sprang to the forefront of Daniel's mind, Jonathan, who would never make it to manhood, Dugan and Pinkerton, who would no longer joke around with Falsworth despite his obvious dislike of their behavior, Jarvis, who would never see his wife again. He felt tears leak out from under his closed eyelids. His crew, every last one of them, was lying with the _Dauntless_ in a watery grave somewhere in the ocean behind him, and he keenly felt the sorrow that accompanied that fact. It was a captain's duty to protect his crew at all costs, and to go down with his ship, if it came to that, and Daniel had failed in both those regards. If he had fought harder against the pirates invading his ship, or if he had even fought back at all against Rogers and Maggie, he would be with his men and his ship in their watery grave, the way a captain should be. In a way, he was glad that Maggie had relieved him of his coat. He no longer deserved to wear it.

Needing comfort, Daniel grasped at the chain around his neck with shaking fingers and withdrew his locket from under his shirt. His heart sank when he opened it and found it empty. The portrait of Violet was gone. He had no idea when or where or how he'd lost it, but, with the way things were going, it was reasonable to assume that it was gone forever. He felt his spirits sink even lower, settling somewhere in the neighborhood of the pit of his stomach. He was startled from his self-pitying reverie by calls from down below for the crew of the _Blood Shrike_ to assemble in the galley for the evening meal.

"Sousa!" came Barnes voice from below him. Daniel leaned over the edge of the crow's nest, his hands against its edge. Spotting him, Barnes called up "Captain wants to see you in her quarters!"

 _Why?_ Daniel wondered. _What else could she possibly want from me? She's already taken everything I have._ He did not voice his doubts out loud to Barnes, wary of how he might react. Instead he climbed wordlessly out of the crow's nest and down the mast, landing on the deck with a _thump_. He stumbled forward on impact, but Barnes caught his shoulder and prevented him from falling.

"Thank you," Daniel said reluctantly. Eyeing Barnes suspiciously, he asked "Why are you being so nice to me?" Barnes shrugged.

"Captain said to make sure you didn't get roughed up too much," he said nonchalantly. "In case you turn out to be useful as a bargaining chip in the future. You can't negotiate with damaged goods."

"I might have known it was something like that," Daniel muttered darkly. "It's clear my value to you is as free labor and cargo, not as a human being."

"Come now," Barnes protested as he escorted Daniel belowdecks. "That's not fair."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Daniel snapped. Barnes' only response was a frown, which led Daniel to believe that he did indeed have the right of things. A few feet down the hall from them, a door opened and Maggie stuck her head out into the hallway, her dark brown curls bouncing.

"Ah good," she said, spotting them. "I see you delivered Captain Sousa as I ordered." There was a mocking tone in the way she said "Captain Sousa" that Daniel understood- without a ship or crew, what was he captain of, really?

Maggie's statement had clearly been meant as a dismissal, but Barnes remained where he was, standing by Daniel's side in the narrow hallway. He was evidently waiting for Maggie to actually say the words "You're dismissed."

"You can go now, Barnes," Maggie said, her mouth quirking upwards at the corners, correctly interpreting her crewman's gesture. For all her faults-and there were many- Daniel had to admit that she seemed extraordinarily in tune with her crew.

When Barnes had left, Maggie beckoned Daniel forward, into her quarters. On the table in the center of the room was laid out a lavish feast. It was too much for one person, so Daniel wondered what Maggie intended to do with it all.

"I didn't intend on dining alone," Maggie said, as if reading his thoughts. "I never do. Normally the honor of being my dinner companion goes to Rogers, but today it is yours."

"I don't consider it an _honor_ to dine with someone who has none," Daniel snapped.

"You'd be wise to dispense with the attitude, Captain," Maggie warned. "It might make me decide that you're more trouble than you're worth. Now please. Sit." Though she said "please", her tone made it clear that it wasn't a request. Daniel dropped stiffly into the seat opposite the table from her, his shoulders tense.

Maggie's falsely flippant attitude didn't extend through their meal. As soon as they started eating, a tense silence settled over the room. Without thinking, Daniel reached up to touch the spot where his locket lay under his shirt, as he always did when he was feeling uncomfortable. Maggie's silence must have been because she was waiting for an opening, as at that moment she said, "Looking for this?" in a distinctly taunting tone, pulled something out of her pocket, and tossed down on the table between herself and Daniel. He glanced down and saw that it was the portrait of Violet that had gone missing from his locket. He froze, staring at it.

"Well?" Maggie prompted. "Go on. Take it. Far be it for me to deprive you of the only view of your beloved you're going to get for the foreseeable future." Daniel snatched the portrait up from the table with quick, nervous fingers, feeling apprehensive. He was smart enough to figure out that Maggie never did anything for anyone without the expectation of future repayment, and he dreaded what she would want him to do for her when the time came to pay the debt she was owed for returning Violet's portrait to him.


End file.
